Sing It Out
by trespresh
Summary: A collection of song-inspired drabbles. Rated M to be safe: language, innuendo, smut.. a little bit of everything, to come. Sterek.
1. California Gurls

**Hey there! So I've decided to start a collection of song-inspired drabble-ish fics. These are not song-fics, per se, but will rather simply be based loosely around certain songs. Because that makes sense, right? ;)**

**I'm thinking most of these will probably revolve around Stiles and Derek, as a sort of glimpse into the progression of their relationship, but you never know what songs may be more appropriate for other couples and/or characters. I can't promise which tunes may be a plot-bunny's favorite, but feel free to leave suggestions if you'd like! I've got a few lined up though, so we'll see how this goes.**

**I will try to not do overly lovey-dovey, because truthfully that makes me kind of sick and I feel like it's not Sterek's way of doing things. **

**Disclaimer: Stiles and Derek are not mine, I'm just playing with them for a little while. The song does not belong to me, either. Lastly, there is a quote in here from the movie 'Highway', which is also not mine. I seriously only own the word progression. Oh, and the mistakes, those are mine too. **

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><p><strong>California Gurls - Katy Perry<strong>

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><p>"Katy Perry is sexist."<p>

Derek's eyes snapped open and he lifted his head from his arms to peer at the younger man. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Katy Perry. She's sexist."

"Yes, Stiles, I heard you. Care to elaborate, or did you want me to guess at whatever it is you're talking about?"

Stiles propped himself up on his elbow, the thin sheet falling across his naked hip, and looked down at the wolf. "'California Gurls' has been stuck in my head _all day_."

Derek groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. "And?"

"And California boys are just as sexy as California girls. Sexier, even."

The older man was silent for a moment, smirking lightly. "So… you were thinking about sexy girls and boys just now? While I fucked you into the mattress?"

Stiles grinned. "You mean while we were warm, wet and wild?" He sidled closer to the lycanthrope, a small laugh bubbling behind his tongue.

Derek mustered a half-hearted glare before dropping his head back onto his arms. Stiles watched his back rise and fall with dark eyes, reaching over to idly trace the ink between the man's shoulder blades. Derek exhaled contently at the soft touches and rare lack of Stiles' jabber, turning his head to look at his bedmate. The highschooler smiled back, seemingly enjoying the comfortable silence as well. Derek's eyes had barely slipped closed again when—

"Why don't we ever go to the beach?"

Derek growled but didn't answer.

"Because I'd really love to sit under palm trees. You know, drinking a little gin n' juice."

"Stiles."

"Hm?"

"You're seventeen."

"…"

"And the sheriff's son."

"…"

"You know what, nevermind."

"I mean, we live on the _Golden Coast_, and my skin is far from sun-kissed. Seriously. If 'tan' is an island off the coast of Florida, I'm stuck in traffic in Jersey."

Derek resisted the urge to groan again. "Stiles. Please stop."

"Fine. If you won't take me to the beach, we can just stay in my jeep."

Stiles' grin was growing and Derek was sorely tempted to jump out of the window. Instead, he buried his face back into his arms, attempting to focus his hearing far beyond Stiles' bedroom. He could hear the _thud_ of the bass in a passing car, and a neighbor woman talking on the phone. If he really concentrated, he could even hear the near-silent footsteps of a tentative doe in the woods across the neighborhood. Despite his best efforts, however, nothing could have distracted him from Stiles' teeth around his earlobe and the hot breath ghosting across his neck.

"And freak in it."

Stiles rolled onto his back, collapsing in a fit of giggles at his own cleverness, and ignored Derek's level glare.

"Oh, come on," Stiles managed between chuckles and gasps of breath, "not even you can deny how perfect that is!"

It _was _perfect. Not that Derek would ever admit it. He wasn't really opposed to the idea, as it were.

"And hey, you know who raps on that track?" Stiles continued playfully, lips rising further in glee.

Derek bared his teeth noncommittally, "I swear to God, Stiles, if you make one 'dog' joke—"

The smaller man was laughing again, so hard that Derek wondered if maybe he ought to do something before the boy suffocated.

"My little Snoop Dogg! Ahahahaha!"

Stiles curled over to flick Derek on the nose.

And oh _hell_ no.

Derek's fist was around Stiles' wrist before he had a chance to retract it. He was pleased to see the boy sober immediately in the face of a snarling wolf. "I'm trying _really _hard to bask in the happy fucking afterglow, here, Stiles."

The lacrosse player eyed him coyly, bringing Derek's fist to his lips. He nipped lightly at the knuckles and smirked.

"It _was _pretty great, huh?"

Derek rolled his eyes. "Stiles?"

"Yes, Snoop?"

"Shut up."

Stiles pouted and bit harder on Derek's knuckle before letting go and rolling over onto his other side. "Fine, asshole. You can melt your own popsicle."

It was silent for a moment before Stiles heard the sheets rustle, felt the body behind him shift closer. He allowed himself a small victory smile.

"You know," Derek breathed, curling his hand around Stiles' hip and pressing an open kiss to the exposed neck, "California boys are _definitely _sexier."

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><p><strong>Um, they <em>are<em> in California, right..? Cause Jackson's license plate had said California in 'Co-Captain', but I'm pretty sure Derek's I.D. in 'Formality' said New York. (P.S.- Derek and Kate? Gag me with a spoon.)**

**Whatever. As far as I'm concerned, they're in California, and I've yakked on enough. **


	2. The Best Day

**Alriiight, drabble number two! This one's pretty sad, guys.**

**If there's any song I'd like you to go listen to while reading any of these fics, it's this one. Even if you don't like Taylor Swift, it's just the sweetest song. I cry every time I hear it, haha! It's not even a sad song, by any means, it's just very relatable. So please, go listen!**

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

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><p><strong>The Best Day - Taylor Swift<strong>

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><p>A small, chestnut haired boy stared at Stiles from the television screen, his eyes dancing with laughter. Stiles blinked and wiped the tears from his own cheeks. The boy on the screen giggled when he was lifted up, cuddled against the face of an equally dark haired woman, his small hands splayed across her neck.<p>

"I love you, my darling boy," the woman cooed with a luminous smile, and Stiles took a shuddering breath, letting the tears fall freely now. He picked up the remote to press 'rewind'.

_I love you, my darling boy._

Click.

_I love you, my darling boy._

His dad had long since recorded over their voicemail, so it wasn't like Stiles got to hear her voice say _anything _anymore, much less that she loved him. He swallowed thickly and wiped impatiently at his eyes.

A loud _thump_ near his window made Stiles jump before scrambling for the remote to press 'stop'. His head jerked over to meet Derek's suspicious gaze. The younger man didn't trust his voice enough to say anything, so he simply watched with wide eyes while attempting to clear all the tears from his face.

"You're crying," Derek's voice was hard, "why?"

Stiles gave a shaky laugh and kept his eyes down. "Y-yeah, uh," he cleared his throat, "I don't really want to talk about it. Do you think you could, um, leave?" He ended in a whisper.

Derek's eyes softened, if only minimally, because he really didn't know how to do this…_sentimental _shit. He could practically taste the salt in the room from the younger man's tears, and the waves of helplessness were rolling off of Stiles like the fucking tides, but what was he supposed to do about it? He took a half step back toward the window, but then tears were wetting Stiles' cheeks again and it took Derek only about half a second to be by his side on the bed.

"Stiles," he demanded, softly but firmly enough that Stiles automatically jerked his gaze up. Catching himself just a little too late, he tried to turn his eyes down again, but Derek's fingers were guiding his face back up and he had no choice. He held the wolf's stare. "What's wrong?"

Derek was surprised by the fresh tears welling in the boy's eyes. Was he not supposed to ask that? Had Stiles actually wanted him to leave, and now he was mad? Derek tried not to panic because all he wanted was for Stiles to stop crying, and now he'd gone and made it worse. Great.

"My mom, uh," Stiles was whispering now, "she died four years ago. Today."

And. _Oh_.

Derek turned to face the blank screen of the television and when he looked back to Stiles, the boy's eyes were downcast again.

"I'm sorry, you don't have to—" Stiles began, only to be interrupted.

"Don't you dare apologize. And you're not getting rid of me, now."

The normally hyper boy gave a small, almost appreciative smile, and Derek knew he'd done right. They sat in silence for a moment before the older man broke it with a whisper.

"Tell me about her."

Stiles gave a soft laugh and fell back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling as Derek watched, waited in the comfortable silence while the smaller man took his time. The tears fell sideways from his eyes onto the bed.

"She was the prettiest woman in the whole world." He took a deep breath, "She and Dad used to take me to the pumpkin patch when I was little and chase me around until sunset. She would pick me up, just _laughing_ the whole way back to the car. She had the greatest laugh, Derek." He paused. "You should've seen how much happier my Dad was when she was around," he added quietly.

Derek didn't say anything. He knew that if someone had told him 'oh, Derek, your family's in a much better place now', or 'they'd want you to be happy', he'd have probably hit them. So he kept his mouth shut and listened.

"Back when Scott and I were, uh, about twelve or thirteen, we got in this huge fight. God, Scott was being such an _asshole_," Stiles gave a watery laugh, "and I came home all upset, so she took me out to my favorite restaurant and then bought me a new video game. We came home and she let me spend the rest of the night teaching her how to play. She was so awful at it." Stiles was laughing again, so far into the thought that he'd forgotten he was with someone, and Derek couldn't help but chuckle himself.

"The next day, I couldn't even remember what Scott and I were fighting about." Stiles' tears were back. "I miss her."

Derek sighed and lay back with the boy, pulling him up to the pillows and letting him curl into Derek's side. "She sounds perfect, Stiles."

Stiles merely sniffled as the older man pressed 'play' on the remote. The same warm, inviting, _happy _voice filled the room as the two men watched the home video.

"You have her eyes," Derek said softly after a few moments.

Stiles hummed and snuggled closer.

"She would've loved who you are, now, you know."

The younger man smiled fondly and allowed even more tears to falls. "I really hope so."

Stiles wasn't expecting this side of Derek to still be there in the morning, but he was glad the man had decided to share it with him for right now, at least.

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><p><strong>I took liberties here, I know. I'm not sure if we've been told how long ago Stiles' mother died, or even <em>how<em> she died, but whatever. **

**R/R! **


	3. Super Bass

**God, number three already? I'm on a roll. )**

**This one's a little citrusy, and is for Juls16 (I hope you like it!), who recommended the song. I couldn't really think of a storyline that would follow the song all that closely, but this is what I ended up with it. **

**Disclaimer: THIS SHIT AIN'T MINE. The song belongs to Nicki Minaj and her sexyfine self. **

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><p><strong>Super Bass - Nicki Minaj<strong>

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><p>Heartbeats had always been a big thing between them.<p>

Like how they would be driving in Derek's car, and Derek would tap his fingers against the steering wheel. Not to the beat of the song playing, but to steady _thumpthump_ of Stiles' heart.

Or like the time Derek had stalked around the outside of the entire school, sifting through a thousand different heartbeats, picking out a few that he'd recognized: Scott's, which…why was his heart beating so fast? Oh…yeah, there was Allison's consistent pulse right next to him. That little strutting girl—what was her name?—was beating away in the locker room with Jackson, who's heart rate was abnormally subdued. Was the guy fucking _on_ something? And then finally—the deep throbbing he'd tasted on the boy's neck on countless occasions. Derek had listened for a few moments, just checking, clicking his tongue to the beat.

Or especially the first time Derek had pushed into that _nnghsofuckingtight_ body, trying to catch his breath against the clenching, and kept his eyes on Stiles' face. The younger man had his eyes shut tight and lips twisted into a grimace, teeth grinding because _oh fuck_ did it hurt.

"Stiles?" Derek had gasped, "You okay?"

The muscles in Stiles' jaw twitched as he ground out, "Mmhm. Yep. Feels great."

Derek had tried to laugh, kissed the other's eyebrow in an uncharacteristically comforting gesture, and used what was left of his self-control to hold his hips still. Stiles' eyes had finally opened and he grasped Derek's forearms simply because he needed to hold on to _something._

"Stiles?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I just… I can feel your fucking _heartbeat_. Feels weird."

And Derek had smiled and rocked his hips.

Suffice it to say that Derek lived his life by Stiles' heartbeat. The steady beat was a reassurance; as long as it was strong enough for the wolf pick up, Stiles was alive and well. The beat was a turn on; the quickened pulse in the boy's jugular against his tongue always forced Derek lower, wanting to taste it in the vein running up the younger's cock. The beat was a tattletale; Stiles had once tried to tell Derek, "_No_, I don't want to have sex, I need to finish this homework," as if Derek was stupid enough to believe that one even without his advanced hearing. Derek had heard the stutter in the boy's pulse and jumped on him without another word.

_No_, Derek wasn't in love. The very idea made him want to roll his eyes and maybe hit somebody, because _come on_. Love was a basic human emotion, something Derek just didn't do. No, what he felt was something much more primal: the nonnegotiable need to protect, to own. As if Stiles had been a part of him since birth, more than second nature, no questions asked. He just needed to know the younger man as well as he knew himself.

Stiles was his, heartbeat and all. And damned if Derek would allow that to change.

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><p><strong>It's kind of hard to tell if many people are liking these or not, so please give me a heads up if you did? Reviews are motivation!<strong>


	4. Howl

**This one... -sigh- ...I surprised myself with this one. It's a lot shorter than the others and it's kind of graphic and dark, but I'm really proud of it. **

**Thankyouthankyouthankyou to SabaChan607, who suggested the song. This was the funnest one to write!**

**Disclaimer: Anything and anybody you recognize is not mine. The song belongs to Florence + The Machine, and it's fabulous and perfect for Sterek... so you should go look it up.**

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><p><strong>Howl - Florence + The Machine<strong>

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><p>It was just something nameless about Stiles that made a tremor run through Derek's body. Made his wolf growl, writhe restlessly inside his chest, tear at his ribcage in vicious desire to be let free.<p>

Not being with the kid made his skin crawl, his teeth ache, his mind concoct obscene images that only forced his hand down the front of his jeans.

Needless to say, Derek would much rather have Stiles by his side at all times.

He was just so _fragile_. That terrible, blood-thirsty creature inside Derek made him want to destroy everything pure about him. He wanted his teeth buried deep into the boy's neck. He wanted to dig into his chest and nip affectionately at his beating heart, touch and worship and annihilate everything that kept the boy innocent.

Derek wanted to burrow underneath Stiles' skin and stay there for the rest of his life.

He wanted to hunt. He _needed _to hunt down whatever hesitation there was that held Stiles from him, and rip it apart. Break him. He wanted to take everything away from Stiles, and give him everything at the same time.

And every time Stiles showed up on his burnt and deteriorating doorstep, Derek would move aside with hungry eyes to let him in. He couldn't say no. He would never say no, because Stiles was a fascination, a delicate porcelain doll that he couldn't decide what to do with. His human side wanted to place the boy on a high shelf, stare up at him in awe and pray that he'd never fall off his pedestal. His wolf side, on the other hand, wanted to smash the doll against the floor, toss him onto the bed and watch his porcelain crack and fall apart, scream Derek's name until he couldn't take it anymore.

Derek never could deny his wolf, and Stiles always received exactly what he needed.

Every night when Stiles fell asleep in his arms, Derek sincerely hoped that he'd feel bad in the morning about not putting the boy up on that high, safe shelf. And every morning when Stiles woke up in his arms, looked up at him with those big brown eyes, Derek could only pat his inner wolf while it hummed contently inside his chest.

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><p><strong>Well there you go. Funny how possessive!Derek looks a lot like psycho!Derek... ;)<strong>

**R/R?**


	5. Girl Talk

**Jeez. I'm sorry for the delay on this. I've been focusing all of my time and energy on planning and writing 'What's Your Fantasy?', so these drabbles have kind of been put on the backburner. BUT I've got a few more song ideas after this one, so expect a few more funny ones soon! ;)**

**Disclaimer: Anything you recognize isn't mine. But if I owned DSW, Victoria's Secret, or Sephora, I'd be a happy girl. **

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><p><strong>Girl Talk - Ultraviolet Sound<strong>

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><p>Derek heard Stiles' presence only after he smelled it. The acidic stench that accompanied his mate burned his sinuses as though he'd drank too much Coke too quickly; his eyes watered, his nose scrunched up, and what the <em>fuck<em> was that smell?

Was that…was that_ acetone_?

"Hey boo!" Stiles exclaimed as he danced into the kitchen and over to where the wolf was standing, facing the counter. The kid wrapped his arms around Derek from behind, his acrid smell filling Derek's nose and making him choke.

And then Derek looked down at the hands on his stomach.

"Stiles? What's on your nails?" He asked slowly, trying to keep the small edge of revulsion from his tone.

The highschooler pulled away and Derek turned to face him. Stiles held his hand up to wiggle his fingers in the older man's face, a small smile on his—lip gloss slathered?—lips.

"Only the most beautiful French manicure! I swear, Cynthia outdid herself this time."

He was too busy studying his nails in awe to notice Derek's open-mouthed gaping.

"You…you got a manicure?"

Stiles looked at him as though this were nothing out of the ordinary. "Yeah, I went with the girls."

"…The girls."

"Allison and Lydia, silly!" Stiles giggled, swatting at Derek's arm playfully.

And what the _fuck?_ Was Stiles playing a joke on him?

Derek laid his palm against the boy's forehead, "Stiles, I need you to tell me. Are you okay? Are you feeling sick?" He leaned close to peer into those chestnut eyes, "Are you on _drugs_?"

Stiles giggled again, batting at Derek's hand. "Of course I'm not on drugs. And I better not be sick… I have so much to do today!"

"…So much to do?" Derek prompted, though not entirely sure that he wanted to hear the response.

Stiles sighed excitedly, "Yeah, DSW _and _Victoria's Secret are both having sales today, and I wanted to go to Sephora and try out that new M.A.C. foundation. Oh, and then I have an appointment for a bikini wax at 3."

'Shock' wasn't a strong enough word, Derek was sure.

"And then," Stiles continued, "when I get home, maybe I'll model some things for you… my new shoes, new panties, new bikini wax," he finished with a wink and a light poke to Derek's chest, and Derek tried his damndest to not vomit.

Stiles was a fucking _girl._

"Oh, my god, gross, don't even say 'panties' again," he breathed, pushing past the newly feminine boy to head up the stairs.

"Pumpkin?" Stiles called after him, "Der! Baby, where are you going?"

Stiles' shouts seemed to be following him.

"Derek? _Derek_."

They were getting closer, louder.

"_DEREK!"_

He opened his eyes. Stiles' face was unusually close to his own, and Derek jumped, the scenes from his nightmare still fresh in his mind.

Stiles sat back. "_Dude_, wake up. You were freaking out, making a shit-ton of noise," the younger man paused, considering the wolf, "bad dream?"

Derek didn't reply. He grabbed Stiles' hand, studying it. The nails were bare, unpainted. He lifted Stiles' fingers to his nose, relieved to find no trace of the biting stench of acetone.

Normal as ever.

He sighed, releasing the boy's hand and looking up. Stiles was staring at him like he'd grown another head.

"_Dude?_"

Derek rubbed his own hand across his face and up into his hair. "I dreamt you basically turned into a girl."

"A girl," Stiles deadpanned, looking skeptical.

The wolf's brow twitched in memory, "You wanted to go," he shuddered, "_panty shopping_. And you called me 'pumpkin'."

He ignored the kid's muffled laughter and dropped the bomb.

"You were going to get a bikini wax."

And Stiles hissed. "Well that's just stupid. I don't like you _that_ much," he told the lycan with a shrug.

Derek only chuckled and reached over to take hold of Stiles wrist again, kissing the inside of it. The boy watched, a small smile lifting his features before he leaned down to press their lips together softly.

"Good thing I got back in time to wake you from that horrible nightmare," Stiles teased, moving to kiss the other's jaw once before standing back up.

"Where'd you go?" Derek asked, sitting up to watch the lacrosse player walk out of the room.

"I had coffee with Allison and Lydia."

The wolf swung his feet around to place them on the floor. He rested his elbows on his knees. "You had coffee with them?"

"Mmm, yep," Stiles called back. Derek could hear him rummaging through his bag in the hall and wondered what the kid was looking for. "We just talked."

Derek snorted, "What the hell did you guys _talk_ about?"

"Our boyfriends," Stiles answered nonchalantly, "Apparently Scott loves doggystyle. Go figure. And Lydia said Jackson's actually very attentive."

And, okay. Derek didn't need to know that.

He waited for his mate to continue, but he never did. Derek sighed, afraid to ask for fear of hearing the worst. "What did you say about me?"

He could practically hear the smirk in Stiles' reply. "I told them you were into bondage."

Derek jerked his head up. He rubbed his hand across his jaw in confusion. "Stiles, we've never done anything like that before."

And then Stiles reappeared in the doorway, his eyebrow raised and a pair of the sheriff's handcuffs twirling easily around his finger. A smirk inched its way onto his face and he bit his lip coyly.

"Not yet."

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><p><strong>I don't know if they have these stores in other countries, so if you weren't sure, DSW is a shoe store, Victoria's Secret is a ladies' lingerie store (though I'm sure most everyone knows that..), and Sephora is a makeupbeauty care store. **

**I love feminine!Stiles. Just you guys wait til' chapter 7 in 'Fantasy'! ;)**

**R/R, loveys.**


	6. Scotty Doesn't Know

**This'll probably be the last one for a while, so I wanted to get it out quickly. I reeeally gotta focus on 'Fantasy'... sorry guys! :(**

**I highly recommend listening to this song. It's hilarious and so perfect for Sterek. I just... I double dog dare you to listen to it and not laugh. **

**Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine. Neither is the song. Cry. **

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><p><strong>Scotty Doesn't Know - Lustra<strong>

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><p>In hindsight, Stiles probably shouldn't have gone over to Derek's house the night of Lydia's party. And okay, he shouldn't have gotten on his hands and knees and begged, either. And maybe answering the phone while Derek was fucking him blind from behind wasn't really the best plan. So what?<p>

Retrospect never had been good to Stiles.

"D-Derek, nngh, stop for a sec, _ah,_" Stiles dropped onto his forearms, arched his back, and groaned when Derek slipped in deeper. He pressed his forehead to the bed as he reached for his ringing phone.

Derek only pounded faster, clutched the kid's sharp hips tighter. He leaned over Stiles' back, licking up the salty skin stretched over his spine, to hum into his ear, "Answer it."

The force of the lycan's thrusts rocked Stiles violently, and he bit back a moan as he answered, "H-hey, Scott."

"_Hey man, where are you? We have to go."_

Stiles shoved his fist into his mouth when Derek purposefully brushed against his prostate, but not quickly enough to stifle the high-pitched squeak that slipped out.

"_Stiles? Are you okay?"_

"Mmm, yeah, great, oh Jesus, _yeah_, I'm f-fine. I just, 'm not feeling…_God, _so great," Stiles' rambling was cut short from the sharp _smack_ of Derek's palm on his ass.

"_Oh, well, um. Are you coming tonight?"_

And Stiles wouldn't be able to hold back his screams if Derek kept jerking his cock like that. He nodded frantically, realizing Scott couldn't see him when he stuttered, "Yeah, yeah, _I'm coming,_ I mean…I, yeah, I'll b-be there," and Derek flicked his thumb over the head of Stiles' cock at the same time he slammed into his prostate, and Stiles barely had time to end the call before he was coming harder than ever, Derek following right after him.

"Bastard," Stiles mumbled while Derek chuckled and pulled out, "you did that on purpose."

The wolf shrugged as he lay back against the pillows, "Yeah, I did," he paused, breathing through his nose before continuing quietly, "Are you ever gunna tell him?"

Stiles lay down as well, leaning against his mate's shoulder. He sighed deeply. "Yeah. I probably should."

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><p>Stiles was shit-faced. Everyone at Lydia's party was his new best friend and why hadn't he ever tasted anything as yummy as Apple Schnapps before?<p>

Whoopsies…that bottle of Belvedere in his hand wasn't completely empty because of him, was it? He stared at the bottle for a second before giggling. This was some _classy_ shit, right here.

He was laughing maybe a bit too loudly with someone that looked a whole lot like Danny—talked a lot like Danny, too—while sitting on a _really_ squashy couch. He figured he'd stay here for a while, only 'cause if he got up on the table again, he'd probably fall. Again.

"Stiles."

He looked down as he felt a weight on his knee to see a hand resting there. His eyes raked up the leather-jacketed arm, up across the broad shoulder, and straight into the pale gaze watching him. His eyes widened with glee, a drunken grin splitting his face.

"DER-BEAR!"

Derek's eyes blazed for a second, before they rolled over to meet Danny's curious stare. "You didn't hear that, Danny."

"Hear what, _Miguel_?" Stupid, smirking Danny. Derek was thankful when he got up and left.

Stiles reached over, aiming a flick at Derek's nose that really ended up on his cheek, and the wolf narrowed his eyes exasperatedly.

"Whuh're you doin' here, Der-bear?" The younger boy asked, eyes half-lidded and head bobbing from side to side.

"Okay, seriously," Derek grabbed the kid's wrist and raised his eyebrows, "enough with the 'Der-bear'. Lydia called me."

Stiles sat up straight, leaning just a little too close to Derek's face to study his eyes, "A likely story! Bu' why would she call you? She jus' prol'ly thinks yer hot." He fell back against the couch with a satisfied smirk, not seeing Derek roll his eyes again.

"Be_cause_, she said you're drunk and ruining her party. Scott's already here so he couldn't come get you."

Stiles pouted indignantly, "Lissen, mister, 'm not drunk. 'M barely even _buzzed_."

Derek bit back a chuckle. "Right. I'm gunna go find Scott and tell him you're leaving."

The intoxicated boy jumped up, swayed dizzily, and leaned into the arm Derek threw out in support. "Scott! 'M comin' with you. Got summin' to tell him."

Locating Scott was harder than Derek expected. He half-carried, half-dragged the staggering and giggling Stiles through the crowded rooms, finally finding the pup sitting at a table with a couple of other kids.

"SCOTTY!" Stiles was out of Derek's arms and lying across the table before the he had a chance to stop him. Scott eyed the older wolf curiously before turning his attention to his best friend.

"Hi Stiles."

"Hi Scotty! 'Re you drunk?"

The darker boy laughed, "Clearly not as drunk as you. Feeling better?"

Stiles laughed as well, though fairly more hysterically, "Feelin' great! Lissen, Scotty, 'member when I was talkin' to you earlier, on…on the phone? I wasn' really sick."

"Stiles—" Derek began, falling silent when the drunken boy shushed him ("Shuddup, lem_me_ tell him!").

"No, f'real, Scott. I wasn' sick. Derek—righ' over there—had his cock _so far up my ass_, so I couldn' really talk."

The table had suddenly become much too quiet, and Derek rubbed his palm over his eyes with a sigh. Scott gaped, staring from Stiles to Derek and back. Stiles, however, didn't seem to appreciate the silence.

"Ser-russ-ly. Have you guys tried tha' before? It's _awesome_!" He looked around the table, grinning, "And _he,_" he pointed at Derek, "has got a _great_ co—"

"_Okay_, Stilinski," Derek cut him off, pulling the kid off the table and slinging him over his shoulder in a fireman's lift, "you're done. Time to go."

Stiles grinned lopsidedly at his best friend and the rest of the kids, slipping his hands down into Derek's back pockets as the wolf carried him out. "F'real, guys," he called out, "'M hittin' this! KAY, GUHBYE!"

"Jesus Christ, Stiles," Derek breathed as they hit the outside air. He carried the kid to the Camaro parked out front, dropping him in the passenger seat and buckling the belt for him. "You're gunna fucking hate yourself on Monday."

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><p>"Oh, god," Stiles moaned, pulling his blankets up and over his head and snuggling back into his pillow.<p>

Fuck, his head hurt so fucking back.

"Please tell me you remember last night." Derek was sitting on the bed in an instant, aspirin and water in hand. Stiles flipped the covers back and took the offerings gratefully, swallowing the pills down in desperation.

He raked through the foggy memories from the night before, groaning when a particularly clear one filled his mind's eye. He dropped his head back to the pillows. "Great. _That's _not embarrassing as shit."

Derek shrugged, holding back his laughter for Stiles' sake. "Eh. You wanted to tell him, anyway. Better to do it when everyone has a slim chance of remembering it, there, Fiona."

Stiles scrunched up his face, brow furrowing in confusion. "Who the fuck is Fiona?"

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><p><strong>Well. Scotty knows, now. ("It's a three-way call, and he knows nothing.") HAHAHWOO.<strong>

**You all rule. Drop a review? ;)**


	7. Someone Like You

**I'm making it official, I'm putting 'Fantasy' on a temporary hiatus (could be two weeks, could be two months, I don't know). I've got a lot going on right now, with school starting up, college applications, two jobs, Homecoming right around the corner, AND I'm designing costumes for the school musical. So, unfortunately, I must prioritize, and I don't want to keep you guys stringing along without any word. 'Sing' may be added to if the inspiration is strong enough, but don't hold me to that. I'm so sorry guys, you all rule and I appreciate you so much; I hope I don't lose you all as readers. **

**Disclaimer: The only thing I own are the chills I get every time I listen to this song.**

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><p><strong>Someone Like You - Adele<strong>

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><p>It was when Stiles fell asleep in his arms, still naked, with his first declaration of love still hanging in the air and ringing in Derek's ears, that the wolf knew.<p>

He couldn't do this. Not to Stiles. The kid deserved better than a quick fuck and the desire for a relationship that Derek just couldn't give. The relationship that Stiles wanted, with the '_I love you_'s and the flowers and the doting, well, maybe Derek wanted some part of it too. But it was a fantasy and that was all it would ever be.

Stiles deserved more.

It was with a heavy heart and a strange, unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach that Derek dressed, leaning down one last time to press a gentle kiss to the highschooler's forehead.

And just like that, Derek Hale was gone.

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><p>Stiles studied himself in the mirror, smoothing the nonexistent flaws in his tuxedo jacket. His reflection stared stonily back and he sighed, blinked at himself. The elaborately decorated frame sneered at him, pointing intricate fingers and laughing in mockery. Something inside his head kept screaming, <em>this is wrong<em>, _don't do this, wrongwrongwrong._

But he really shouldn't be feeling this way on his wedding day.

Stiles ran his hand across his jaw and around to the back of his neck where he rubbed lightly, looking down at his feet and breathing rhythmically. This was stupid, the way he was feeling. Weary, anxious…maybe a little disappointed, like this wasn't the 'happy ending' he was meant to have. But he could do this, he could watch the woman he loved walk down the aisle toward him. Because yes, he did love her. That was how it was supposed to be.

Then again, conventionality had never been Stiles' thing.

And then he looked up, back into the mirror, to see Derek—_Derek Hale—_standing in the doorway over his shoulder. To say he'd jumped in shock would be a severe understatement. He stared in the mirror as the werewolf offered a tiny, humorless smile.

"Ten years, and you still jump," he said softly, and Stiles let his eyes close momentarily at the voice. It had been a decade since he'd heard Derek speak, but the deep, slightly husky drawl washed over him with such familiarity that it might as well have been yesterday.

When he opened his eyes again, Derek was looking at him with mild curiosity, head tilted just slightly.

"That's the first thing you say?" Stiles breathed, not trusting his voice to raise it any higher. He turned from the mirror to shakily meet the pale blue gaze head-on.

Derek's voice was still quiet, though Stiles swore he was screaming in the otherwise silent room, when he responded. "I wasn't sure what else to say."

"Why are you here?"

Truth be told, Derek had no idea why he was there. He'd, of course, stayed closely in touch with Scott when he'd gone, the younger wolf understanding of his Alpha's need to leave. He'd told him about how devastated Stiles had been upon waking up to a cold bed that very next morning.

Broken, Scott had said. Utterly shattered.

And Scott told him about how Stiles had begun to pick up the little fragments of himself, pulling them back together over the months. Over the years.

And here Stiles was, standing before him in a tuxedo. Ten years had been good to the kid. The scrawny high school boy had filled out, his jaw squared, his facial features just a little bit more defined. His hair was a little longer. Derek wondered idly what would happen if he were to run his finger down the kid's neck, maybe trace his collarbone. He wondered…

"I don't know why I'm here," he admitted, sighing. _I couldn't stay away. I couldn't fight it. _

Stiles stared at him. He wanted to yell at the man in front of him, scream at him, hit him, kiss him hard enough to make up for all the years. But he just stood. He stared.

"You don't know…" Stiles repeated quietly, almost to himself. "You show up after ten years of _nothing_, and you don't know why—" There was a tiny little edge of hysteria creeping into his voice.

"Stiles," Derek cut in, and the kid fell silent immediately, praying that the wolf would say his name again. Just once, even. "I had to leave."

The younger man remained quiet, still taking in every thing about the wolf that he'd gone without for the past ten years, and blinked to stop the tears from welling up in his eyes.

"You didn't deserve the set-up we had. I couldn't give you the relationship you wanted, and I couldn't make you happy," Derek told him, his voice low and maybe a little desperate as he rushed on when Stiles opened his mouth to protest, "No, not _truly_ happy. You deserve someone who _can_ make you that happy, someone who can give their entire self to you. Hell, someone who can make you a father!" His voice was rising now as he gestured toward the door. Toward the rest of Stiles' life. His eyes were wide and pleading, and Stiles couldn't help but notice how lost Derek really looked as they blinked at each other.

Stiles scrutinized the older man, his lips pressed into a thin line and his eyes swimming. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he whispered into the quiet room, "Tell me you didn't love me."

Derek froze.

"Tell me you didn't love me, please," the tears were falling now and Stiles was practically begging, "It'd make this a whole lot easier."

The wolf stared at him, completely silent, but that was enough; Stiles let out a soft sob and wiped impatiently at his eyes.

"Alright, then," he murmured wetly, releasing a humorless laugh that was more like a gasp. He sniffed and hiccupped, and Derek wanted so badly to stride forward, pull him close and feel Stiles' weight against his chest.

"Stiles, I have to tell you—"

"Babe?"

The two men paused as a petite brunette danced into the room, her hair elegantly tied in curls and wisps at the base of her neck, her face flawless with youth. Her long white dress billowing behind her. She hesitated upon spotting her fiancé's tears, her eyes flicking between him and the dark man whom she'd never seen before.

"I'm sorry, I—" she broke off, brow furrowing daintily, and she gestured haltingly toward the doorway, "I should've…knocked?"

Derek wanted to laugh at how badly it hurt to physically see the bride, rather than just as an abstract 'somebody'. Stiles belonged to this woman now, not him. Not anymore.

She turned her wide, pretty eyes on the wolf, smiling politely. "Well you're not with the bride…" she joked, her light, tinkling laugh grinding against Derek's eardrums, and he forced himself to smile along with her.

"I'm an old..." his look of confliction went by unnoticed by her, "…friend. Of Stiles'."

She smiled graciously again, nodding to herself before turning to Stiles. "Babe, it's um…they're ready for you. Are you okay?"

Stiles glanced over her shoulder at the other man, finding his face skillfully blank. The younger man turned his eyes down to meet his bride's, and he smiled softly. "Yeah. I'll be out in a sec."

The small woman grinned, placing a peck to Stiles' cheek and giving a tiny squeak of excitement before dashing from the room. Pale blue eyes met chestnut brown again and Derek gave a sad smile.

"She's beautiful, Stiles."

The younger man nodded absently, "So you…what? Came here to tell me not to get married?"

_Please tell me not to get married. _Stiles would be back in Derek's arms the second the wolf said it.

But Derek just smiled that sad smile at him, "No, Stiles, I want the best for you," he said softly, and after a tense pause, he continued, "I should go."

And Stiles stared with wide eyes as the lycan turned toward the door. "Derek, don't…"

But the older man just looked over his shoulder to hold Stiles' gaze, brow furrowed like he was trying to take in every detail of the younger man. And then he disappeared out the door.

Just like that, Derek Hale was gone.

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><p><strong>Happy happy! <strong>

**P.S. Little tidbit: Blink-182 and My Chemical Romance were here a couple weeks ago for the Honda Civic Tour. Jesus, Gerard Way is just so spicy. Mmm.**

**Reviews are yummy. Love.**


	8. Guys Like Us In Prison

**I'm back! Well, for now. :) My time's freeing up a bit, so we'll see how much I can start writing again. I miss this, and you guys!**

**This song... guh. You should go listen to it, it's pretty twisted and great.**

**Disclaimer: Uh.. disclaimed. Teen Wolf belongs to Jeff Davis, MCR belong to themselves, the insane giggle at the end of this song belongs to Bert McCracken. **

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><p><strong>You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us In Prison - My Chemical Romance<strong>

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><p>Stiles never liked the idea of conjugal visits.<p>

Too bad that that was what it looked like he was in for as he watched the police officer push Derek's head down and into the cruiser. The high schooler sighed exasperatedly when the wolf gave him a cheeky grin through the back window as the car pulled away from the Hale house, taillights gleaming in the dark.

The whole point was to _not_ get caught.

"Serves the bastard right," Scott grumbled from beside Stiles before walking over to the remaining officers circled around Peter Hale's smoking corpse.

Stiles rolled his eyes. Yeah, sure, Scott lost his last chance at humanity and quite possibly the love of his life, but _Stiles_ now had the inconvenience of going through the penal system if he ever wanted to have sex with Derek again!

There was no way the wolf was getting less than a life sentence, considering the cops pulled up while he was standing over his recently burned-and-slashed-to-death uncle. Not to mention that the body of the woman Derek was notorious for having a vendetta against was crumpled in a bloody puddle in the man's own living room.

Stiles sighed. It was a rough night all around.

"Weird things've been happenin' lately," the guard informed Stiles as they walked down the hall. "Accidents, ya know?"

Stiles suppressed a snort. "Accidents?"

"Like guys lifting too much weight in the gym and dropping the barbells on their chests; we found two of them with their ribs splintered into their lungs the other day. And a guy slipped in the showers last week, broke his neck."

Stiles was barely paying attention to the guard. He was busy catching eyes with inmates inside their cells and smirking at the catcalls and obscene comments hurled at him.

"Hey, beautiful—"

"Come 'ere, kid, I'll fuck you so hard you'll _taste_ it—"

"I bet you scream _real_ pretty—"

And the guard took no notice. Stiles allowed himself a little giggle as he tuned back into the man's rambling.

"—never seen blood _come_ from there before. So anyway, you should tell your friend to be careful."

They stopped in front of a door and the man stationed himself beside the frame. Stiles pushed the door open, carefully closing it behind him and striding toward the man sitting at a table in the center of the room.

"Hey," he said, leaning over the table to press his lips heavily against Derek's. He sighed into the kiss, the desperation and longing he'd pushed down rising, and Derek curled his hand around Stiles' neck to bring them closer.

"About time you came to see me," the wolf grinned when they parted, eyes on Stiles' tongue as the kid ran it over his lips to savor the man's taste. Stiles shrugged and sat down across the table.

"How are you?"

Derek sat back in his seat and grinned that fucking manic grin again. "Doing great."

Stiles stared at him, "Yeah? Just because I know what they do to guys like you in prison. Well," he corrected, "guys like _us_." He reached across the table and laced their hands to prove his point.

The man chuckled, his eyes flashing to that icy blue, and he sat forward again. "You know what they do to _wolves_ like me in prison?"

Stiles huffed at the playful tone and didn't answer. Derek was fucking enjoying himself.

And then the other man was laughing—_hahahahah—_and choking out, "Nothing!"

Stiles' shoulders dropped and he rolled his eyes, waiting for the lycan to calm down.

"So the guy that 'slipped and fell' in the showers?"

Derek shrugged noncommittally. "He thought he was strong enough to push me to my knees."

The younger man crossed his arms and sighed, frustrated. "And the guys with the weights?"

The other leaned closer, lips stretching as he grinned. "Friends of the shower-guy. It was precious how they thought they were so strong."

Stiles pouted. "I wish you would take this seriously. What happens when the guards find out it was all you?"

Stiles imagined Derek sitting in an old-school wooden chair with his arms strapped down, fabric brought down over his head and a dripping sponge on top of his head. Or a needle sticking from the wolf's arm, a fatal, clear liquid being pushed into his veins. Stiles pictured the man swinging from a rope tie around his neck.

He knew none of the execution attempts would work on the non-human, but he still didn't like thinking about it.

"Hey," Derek murmured, leaning in so their faces were inches apart, his eyes focused on Stiles'. "When that happens, I'll take everyone down, burn this place to the fucking ground, and come home to you."

Stiles held his gaze, trying not to let his tiny smile show too much fondness. He pushed his lips to the lycan's, enjoying the way Derek tugged on his lower lip when he pulled back, and sighed.

"Well, if it speeds up the process, the prisoner down the hall said he'd fuck me so hard I'd taste it," he said conversationally.

Derek considered the younger man for a moment before replying equally matter-of-factly. "His death will be painful."

Stiles nodded to himself and rose from his chair. "See you soon."

He headed toward the door and, just as he pushed it open, he turned back to the wolf, "And, hey, be careful. I've heard there've been some crazy accidents happening around here," he teased, loud enough for the guard outside to hear.

The door slammed closed on Derek's loud laughter.

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><p><strong>I love insane!Derek. And semi-insane!Stiles. Oh, oh, and Gerard Way and his sexyfine, maniac self. <strong>

**And reviews. **


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